TTA THE LONG-CRESTED JAY. 
again, when greedily regaling upon acorns, or hopping about with 
no particular object in view, or curiously peering down through 
the pine fronds to watch an intruder, he talks to himself in a queer 
way, as if thinking aloud and chuckling over some comical notions 
of his own; or perhaps simply because he likes to hear himself. 
Indeed, this talkativeness gave the name — Garrulince —to the 
whole tribe of jays; and versatile as they are in this, they are 
equally so in the matter of their food, whence they used to be 
called Omnivori. The long-crested jay will eat anything that is 
eatable. They say jays kill and devour small birds ; perhaps they 
may, but I do not think it is their practice. That they will rob 
birds’ nests, and suck eggs, no one doubts; and if they cannot 
catch winged insects, fat larvæ and beetles do nòt come amiss. 
But after all, they are vegetarians, and live principally upon seeds, 
berries and other fruit. Out there in the mountains where the 
Long-crested lives, pine-seeds contribute in large part to his nour- 
ishment. I have often watched the bird hammering away at a 
cone, which sometimes he would wedge in a crotch, and sometimes 
hold with his feet, like a hawk with a mouse. Though most at 
` home in the depths of the pines where the supply is pretty sure, 
he often strays into the adjoining patches of scrubby oak and ju- 
niper after the acorns and berries, or to pick a quarrel with Wood- 
house’s jay, and frighten the sparrows. Wherever he goes he has 
it pretty much his own way, hated and feared by the other birds, 
whom he silences with his scream, and subdues by a show of au- 
thority. But who of his ilk has not enemies to be feared in turn? 
Cassius’ flycatcher, almost as noisy and audacious as himself, has 
many a set-to with him; and even the nimble little pewees pester 
him occasionally. The woodpeckers tease him particularly ; they 
can scramble about faster than he can follow, and laugh at him 
from the other side of a bough, till he quite loses his temper. 
But withal our jay has his good points, and I confess to a 
sneaking sort of regard for him. An elegant dashing fellow, 
of good presence if not good manners ; a tough, wiry, independent 
creature, with sense enough to take precious good care of himself, 
as you would discover if you tried to get his skin. As you ap- 
proach a tall pine where he is rollicking, his restless bright brown 
eye marks you for a suspicious character who wilt bear watching. 
Now thoroughly on the alert, he leaps like a squirrel from bough 
to bough till he reaches the top; and then, as you advance a step 
